


talk some sense to me

by Miss_Six



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, doesn't get much slower than 20 years does it, i have lost control of my life, i hope you're all happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:09:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14216841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Six/pseuds/Miss_Six
Summary: Two weeks after Pyeongchang, and Scott Moir now understands the meaning of the word *overwhelmed* on a molecular level.It’s not even because of the media frenzy (turns out a comeback plus relationship baiting made for compelling television, who knew? Spoiler: Tessa knew) or the typical responsibilities that come with winning a gold medal for your country (that part, at least, was familiar territory) - it was The Nothing.As in, "What’s going on with you two?" "Oh, nothing."





	1. strangers cornered in a dark room

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written RPF. I never felt compelled to. Until now. Because if I'm going to suffer, I'm taking ALL OF YOU WITH ME.
> 
> I'm new, and did not thoroughly research like at all. So the timeline is vague and bendy, and rolls into the future.

**1: like a prayer, you don't expect an answer (though you ask for one)**

Two weeks after Pyeongchang, and Scott Moir now understands the meaning of the word _overwhelmed_ on a molecular level.

It’s not even because of the media frenzy (turns out a comeback plus relationship baiting made for compelling television, who knew? Spoiler: Tessa knew) or the typical responsibilities that come with winning a gold medal for your country (that part, at least, was familiar territory) - it was The Nothing.

As in, _What’s going on with you two? Oh, nothing._

To be fair, Scott has been just as guilty of using their busy schedules as an excuse to avoid discussing The Nothing. They’ve been not talking about it for two years, now - long enough that he’s not even entirely sure why they’re not talking about it anymore, but thinking about it is enough to give him an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, so he just...doesn’t think about it.

Tessa’s been thinking about it, though. He can tell at the end of a long day, when they’re alone for those few minutes before they go back to their hotel rooms or he’s walked her to her car, and she goes quiet and her whole body seems to shrink just a bit and her eyes get that faraway look, just for a moment before they hug and say goodnight. _What’s up, Tess? Oh, nothing._

That, combined with the entire world’s fascination over the exact nature of their _partnership_ , has pulled The Nothing back out of the recesses of Scott’s mind and given it free reign to body check him with every question about their personal lives.

“Are the two of you-” _pow!_

“You’re together now, right?” _oof!_

“So obviously you’re dating.” _wham!_

And here they thought they knew what they were doing.

 

**2: like the actors I seen on the television, with the stage lights on**

The romance angle hadn’t been all Tessa’s idea. It was already out there, had been for years, despite denials and relationships with other people. It was just her idea to give it a little more ammunition.

To be honest, she was surprised that Scott was game for it. He never cared much for the publicity side of things - it was a moral quirk of his that he wanted to know they’d won based on the strength of their skating, and not because of invisible popularity points. She suspects he agreed because if everyone thought they were an item, it would help them maintain the insulation against the outside world that they needed if they were going to make this comeback a success.

He could be surprisingly pragmatic like that.

So they both swore off seeing other people for the next two years, stood a little closer to each other at the rink, let themselves be openly affectionate in a way they rarely were outside their own homes. They prepped for the inevitable questions, had teasing responses ready for every possible permutation of “Are you dating?”

It worked, with some surprising side effects - Tessa hadn’t expected how much their ploy would influence their skating, for the better. It made sense, when she thought about it; demonstrating their closeness made them feel even closer, which translated to the ice. Score one for the Virtch.

The other side effect was much less welcome. As the months wore on, a vague, intangible _heaviness_ began to settle into the atmosphere around them, seemingly at random. While they were blocking choreo, Scott’s hand on the small of her back. The night after a particularly grueling training session, watching sitcom reruns side-by-side on Scott’s couch with strategically placed ice packs on their screaming muscles. The moment after one of them thanks the other for picking up their favorite coffee order/drink/whatever, without being asked.

And, lately, just about every time someone asks them The Question.

Really, though, it’s playing out the way Tessa knew it would. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Doesn’t she?

 

**3: you threw yourself in with me, made a cross and you lit a candle**

Scott’s lying on his back in a hotel room in Toronto, trying to will himself into the shower, bone tired and feeling a little existential when he hears the knock at his door.

It’s Tessa, because of course it is, and she does a double take at the sight of him. “Did I interrupt something?”

He looks down at himself and realizes his shirt is half unbuttoned, his belt is undone, and he’s only wearing one sock. “No, ah...I was about to shower.”

“Oh. I mean, it’s not that important, we can talk tomorrow…” but he’s already ushering her in as he removes his belt and pulls off his other sock.

“What’s on your mind?” _Please don’t say nothing_ , he thinks to himself as he grabs an overpriced beer from the mini fridge.

Tessa plops into the armchair in the corner, takes a deep breath. “You know we don’t have to keep this up any longer, right?” The words tumble out of her mouth in a rush, and she presses her lips together when she’s done, like she’s trying to keep something else in.

It takes him a minute to parse what she’s said, and he opens his beer and takes a seat on the bed to face her. “Keep up...keep what up?”

“The whole secretly-in-love thing.” She sucks in her top lip just a bit to chew on as she watches him take a swig of beer. “Like...it’s all over, right? And I know you’re getting tired of The Question. So we don’t have to keep pretending to be attracted to each other.”

“Oh. Right.” He takes another swig. “Except we’re not really pretending.”

There it is. The thing they weren’t going to talk about.

Tessa’s pale to begin with, but she goes about three shades whiter. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, quietly but firmly.

“I know, Tess, I know. I just-” Scott sighs, stares down at the bottle in his hand as he swirls what’s left of his beer in circles. “I’m sorry I said that. It’s late, I’m exhausted, we have another interview tomorrow morning and there’s no way this is going to be a productive conversation.”

Tessa nods, takes another deep breath and draws her shoulders back like she’s getting ready to take the ice. It’s also, Scott knows, the signal that she’s taking whatever it is that’s bothering her, stuffing it into a bottle, and corking it tight. “You’re right. I’m sorry too.” She gets up from her chair and stands in front of him, takes his face in her hands and gently tilts his head back so he’s looking her in the eyes. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do on my behalf.”

He’s still looking up at her as she brings her head closer, and rests her forehead against his. There’s traces of black under her eyes. She’s been crying. “I know that, T. I won’t. I promise.”

She smiles, her eyes close. “Thanks, Scotty. You’re my favorite person.” She presses a quick kiss to the top of his head, and then she’s gone.

Scott waits until he hears the door latch, then ditches his beer on the nightstand and flops back on the bed. “I’m such an asshole,” he says out loud to himself, then drags himself towards the shower.

 

 **4\. in the dark I thought I saw you...or was it nothing at all**  

The thing that everyone gets wrong, Tessa thinks, is the idea that they’ve never considered a relationship together.

They talked about it as teenagers, Tessa making a detailed list of Pros that was shorter than the Cons by a hair and Scott sharing the horror stories he’d heard about teams screwing up their dynamic after screwing each other. No, they agreed, they liked each other a lot but they liked winning even more than that.

They talked about it after Vancouver, when they were on top of the world in the most literal sense and feeling like nothing could go wrong for them, and it was a long night with a lot of booze and a few tears and the realization that they’d come too far to wager what could be a long and successful career over a romance that could be over in a heartbeat.

They talked about it after Sochi, after feeling like they’d already peaked so why not give it a go? But both of them were finally starting to piece together what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives, and realizing that some of their pieces didn’t fit together as well as their bodies did on the ice. Pieces like career goals, family size, where to retire. Things that a couple of twenty-somethings were just beginning to understand as important.

They talked about it a lot after Sochi, actually. Tessa still remembers feeling relieved as they put everything they’d been thinking out in the open, being able to put all her doubts into words and realizing how much they loved each other even if it wasn’t _like that_ . And then Scott started dating Kaitlyn and Tessa let herself close that box, label it _Resolved_ , and shove it to the back of her mind. Which is where it stayed until Scott and Kaitlyn split, they decided to come out of retirement, and Tessa realized their mutual attraction hadn’t gone away. Not necessarily in that order. 

She’s not sure exactly what happened between then and now, but she’s starting to realize that things hadn’t been resolved so much as deferred. And that she’s going to have to unpack that box.

And it’s gonna be _so messy._

 

**5\. i've grown attached to you being here**

The next time they talk about it, Scott springs it on her during their flight to LA. Unfair, yes, but he also knows that being in public means they'll have to speak in code, and Tessa is much more likely to share how she actually feels if she doesn't have to say it directly.

“So you’re...thinking of moving?” he asks, with a nudge that tells her he's not actually talking about moving.

She side-eyes him for a long moment before responding. “Well, I’m definitely not thrilled with where I’m at now.”

 _And whose fault is that?_ he thinks for a bitter half-second before guilt makes him immediately retract the thought. “So shouldn’t you, I dunno, call a realtor or something?” His eyes are burning holes in her cheekbone.

“I don’t want to call somebody only to find out that I’m wasting my time because I’m just going to end up staying in my current residence,” she grinds out through gritted teeth. “ _Maybe_ the kind of place I want _isn’t available._ ”

“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting that impression, because I can tell you that places are VERY available,” he says matter-of-factly, maybe just a little louder than is really necessary. “I mean...I would know.” _She is absolutely going to kill me as soon as this plane lands._

Tessa takes a deep breath, closes her eyes in exasperation. “You don’t even know what kind of place I’m looking for.” Her voice isn't angry anymore, just weary.

“Well if you _called a realtor_ , I’m sure you could _communicate_ what you want and they could accommodate you or help you _compromise._ ” Scott knows he's pushing his luck, and sure enough she reaches down and pulles her travel pillow out of her bag with a vicious yank.

“I’m tired, I’m going to nap. Wake me for drinks,” she mutters, and then silence.

Scott sighs. He is definitely not going to wake her for drinks.

Okay, maybe he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I don't know how to use AO3.
> 
> Yell at me on tumblr, @beautimous


	2. what a beautiful mess this is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Topic? Broached. Can? Open.
> 
> Worms? *Everywhere*.

**1\. i'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging**

Topic? Broached. Can? Open.

Worms? _Everywhere._

Scott, to his credit, has not tried to bring it up again since she cut off his terrible real estate metaphor. She could tell while they were taping Ellen that he was trying to follow her lead, which was good since right before they started dancing their way across the floor, she emphatically mouthed “FOLLOW MY LEAD.”

He’s also dialed down the behavior - in public. Privately, he seemed to be determined to make up the difference. Brushing hair out of her face and lingering with his touch, kissing the back of her hand while they were in the car. Even reaching up to give her a brief neck massage while they were on an elevator. Tessa hadn’t realized it was possible to be passive-aggressively sweet.

 _Aggressively_ passive-aggressively sweet.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells him the next time he pulls her close. “I told you.”

“No, you told me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do,” he replies. “And I’m not.” He lets go anyway, and she pretends she’s not disappointed.

For her part, Tessa is busy doing damage control...on herself. She has been here before, scrambling desperately to stuff all her feelings and emotions back in the cobwebby depths of her brain, and damned if they’ll get the best of her this time. There’s no way she’s going to sit down with Scott and hash out all the reasons they shouldn’t be together.

Not again.

 

**2\. don't mind my nerve, you could call it fiction**

The things that make Tessa a great teammate, Scott muses to himself, are the same things that make her so difficult to deal with on a personal level. Tessa the teammate makes decisions based on logic, and even if she disagrees with what’s been decided she’ll never bring it up in a disparaging way. For Tessa the person, that means once a course has been set, she’s going to pretend it was her decision to begin with and mentally rewrite history accordingly.

This is what makes it virtually impossible to revisit anything with her. That, and her tendency to repress her emotions to an unhealthy degree.

“Are you here with me right now?” he asks her after they botch a lift in rehearsal for the fifth time that day.

“I’m here with you,” she asserts, looking a little shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve got less than a week and it’s like you’re a fucking mannequin, Tessa.” His words are sharp but his tone is concerned. “It’s like you’re just going through the motions.”

Her eyes spark for the first time all day. “I’m just coming back to reality,” she snaps, and he submits, and they finally make it through their entire exhibition piece without mistakes because Tessa puts a little fire into it.

He always submits, because getting even a little emotion from Tessa feels like a victory of its own.

 

**3\. I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear**

Tessa’s packing to leave Osaka when she hears the knock at her door. She opens it to find Scott, with a bottle of soda water in one hand and a bottle of what looks like vodka in the other. Her smile falters just a little when she sees what he’s bearing, because she knows what that means.

“Hey! Come on in, I was just packing.” She turns sharply back to the bed her suitcase is on, leaving him to make his own way into the room. “Are you packed yet?”

“Yeah, I mean...you know how I am, I just crammed everything in the suitcase and I’ll sort it out when I get there.” He doesn’t sit or set the bottles down, just hovers right in her peripheral vision.

“Some things never change, right?” she says brightly.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Some things do.”

Tessa’s not sure what he’s referring to, and she’s not sure if she wants to know. “So what’s up?” she asks, turning to face him.

“I was hoping we could-” he lifts the vodka bottle a little- “talk.”

She smiles a bit harder. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Oh, don’t do that, Tessa. Please don’t give me your PR smile.” He finally sets the soda water down and starts opening the vodka.

“Scott, no. Don’t open that. Why do you think we need to talk like-” she gestures at the vodka- “this?”

He’s frozen, hand still on the half-screwed-off cap. Slowly he reverses the motion. “I figured it was just tradition for us. You know, medal ceremony, toast to ourselves, have a drunken heart-to-heart about whether or not we should be together.”

“We already talked about it,” she says, staring him down even though he’s staring at the vodka bottle so as not to make eye contact. “And either way, we have to be up stupid early tomorrow and I’m not traveling with a hangover.”

“You have a point there,” he admits, looking at her with a grin that’s both sheepish and sly. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. I’ll just be back the night before our next free day.”

“We already talked about it,” she says again, but he’s already shaking his head as he grabs the vodka and soda water.

“We talked about it four years ago, Tess.” She opens the door for him, and he leans down and kisses her, full on the mouth, just for a second before she can process. “A lot can change in four years.”

And then he’s gone.

 _That_ **_motherfucker_ ** _._

 

**4\. it's nice to say that we played in the dirt**

A week later Scott knocks on Tessa’s hotel door. She doesn’t answer. He waits for just a minute after knocking a second time, and then turns back towards the elevators.

A week and a half after that, she doesn’t answer again.

Tessa, true to form, is pretending none of it is happening, and she’s getting better at it every day. If Scott can tell that something is wrong, it’s only because he’s known her long enough to pick up on the extra iciness in her tone lately, or how she only talks to him when absolutely necessary. Which is - okay, still a lot, but less than usual.

The third time, when she doesn’t answer he calls through the door like an asshole. “You can’t logic your way out of this, Tessa,” he says. He knows she heard him because the next day she looks like she’s been crying, and then he feels like an even bigger asshole.

The first chance he gets, he apologizes. “I’m sorry, Tess. I’ll drop it, ok?”

She studies his face. “Yeah. Ok. I’d appreciate it.”

The next two days are much more relaxed.

And then there’s a knock at Scott’s door, and it’s Tessa, looking more nervous than he’s seen her in years. “You, um, you still have that vodka?” and no, he finished that handle a while ago but there’s more, but all he can do is nod as he lets her in.

They don’t get more than two steps in the door before she’s kissing him, and if Scott isn’t opening the vodka it’s because his hands are full of Tessa.

 

**5\. It’s like taking a guess (when the only answer is yes)**

As much as she hates to admit it, Tessa is used to waking up in Scott’s bed. She’s used to snapping awake a couple of hours after falling asleep, rolling over, seeing him next to her. Used to curling around him and drifting back off to sleep.

The first time it happened, it was more by accident than by design, but Tessa savoured the thrill. Which is why it kept happening, not often, but often enough. It wasn’t a relationship, they rationalized, it was just sex. She _liked_ having that secret. Thought maybe that’s why it felt the way it did, because of the thrill of doing something she shouldn’t be doing.

She’s reasonably sure that it was just sex, back then. She’s not so sure about more recent events.

Sure enough, Scott is on his side, and she spoons him to press her chest against his back. She puts her nose to the back of his neck and smiles at how the contact makes him draw a deep breath. _He was right_ , she thinks wryly to herself, _we didn’t have to pretend._

_God, he’s insufferable when he’s right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Al. most. there. 
> 
> Yell at me on tumblr, @beautimous.


	3. love where it wasn't supposed to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re lying in bed on the fourth night when she says it, on their sides but not spooning, Scott behind her by enough inches that he can run his hand lightly up her side to follow how she curves. “What if that’s the part we’re bad at.”
> 
> Scott’s hand stills. “Bad at what part?”
> 
> She rolls to face him. “The being in love part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS. Can I please have my brain back?
> 
> It's been an interesting journey. I'm so, so grateful for the kudos and the comments - I joined this fandom, like, yesterday, so thank you for giving my weirdly elaborate long form headcanon your attention. I'm seriously humbled.

**1\. i’ll use you as a focal point**

The first time it happened was right before Vancouver. Tessa was still in pain and Scott felt guilty, they were keyed up, training hard, they were both full of terror and excitement and it turns out all of that combined is a powerful aphrodisiac if you put on a movie and get under a blanket. Scott is 99% sure Tessa started it. He’s also 99% sure that Tessa believes he started it.

In any case, they didn’t talk about it like they should have. Instead they spent the Olympics filled with worry that they had done something wrong, somehow, that they would lose because they finally tripped over the line they swore they wouldn’t cross.

Then they won gold, and suddenly both of them were a lot more open to the idea than they used to be. There were rules, though:

  1. Never the night before they compete.
  2. No shop talk.
  3. Anything discussed in bed stays in bed.



Sure, the sex is amazing, but when Tessa shows up at his door and starts taking his pants off Scott is honestly hoping she’ll invoke rule #3 and they can finally talk. Except they don’t. Nor do they discuss it the second or third night Tessa sneaks to Scott’s room as early as she thinks she can get away with it.

And they are definitely not getting away with it. Around other people, Tessa is being openly affectionate with him one moment, only to hardly look him in the eye the next. He’s trying to follow her lead, but it’s hard to keep up with her. _What’s up with Tessa? Oh, nothing._

Still, Chiddy is the only one to ask him outright. Probably, Scott thinks, because he’s the only one who actually wants to know. “So are you and Tessa fighting or something?” he asks after group dance rehearsal, as Scott puts his shoes on.

“We’re not...fighting, I mean…” Scott gestures vaguely with a sneaker, “...we’re not mad at each other. Why, is that what everyone thinks?”

Chiddy shakes his head. “No, man. Nobody knows what the hell you guys are doing anymore.”

Scott finishes tying his shoes and continues to stare at the laces. “To be honest, I don’t think I know what the hell we’re doing anymore.”

Chiddy mumbles something and says goodbye, and Scott can feel the air shift from how hard his friend rolls his eyes as he walks away.

He may not know what they’re doing, but he knows what he’s doing, and that’s why he hasn’t brought it up again despite Tessa behaving as though she is both his current and ex-girlfriend, simultaneously.

They’re lying in bed on the fourth night when she says it, on their sides but not spooning, Scott behind her by enough inches that he can run his hand lightly up her side to follow how she curves. “What if that’s the part we’re bad at.”

Scott’s hand stills. “Bad at what part?”

She rolls to face him. “The being in love part.” He still looks puzzled, so she continues. “We’re so good at everything we do together. Skating together, working together-” she lifts her left hand and waves it awkwardly between them- “...this.”

He absorbs what she’s said, raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad you think the sex is good-ow!” he recoils reflexively from the shove she gives his shoulder.

“I’m serious! What if we’re so bad at being in love that it makes us hate each other, and then that’s what messes up the good things?”

Before he answers, he brings his hand up to trace her jawline, sliding his hand beneath her chin to tip her face up. “That sounds wildly speculative. I feel like the statistics show otherwise.”

Her expression says she wants to keep arguing her point, but instead she pulls him close to kiss him, so he kisses her back and wonders if her question means she’s not already in love with him.

Wonders if he’s already in love with her. Wonders if he’s ever not been in love with Tessa Virtue.

 

**2\. If you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind**

If Tessa’s external behavior made it seem as though she was conflicted, that’s because her internal thoughts were downright tortured.

He said he’d drop it, and then she didn’t let him drop it. She’d gone to his room with every intention of sitting down and maybe finally getting some closure on the whatever-the-hell-this-is nature of their relationship, and then she threw herself at him and added yet another layer of complexity.

Then she keeps throwing herself at him, and tells herself it’s just like before, that she is doing this because she likes it, and actually it’s nothing like it was before, but that’s ok because it helps lessen the guilt she feels over using sex to manipulate the situation.

She’s pretty sure that’s what she’s doing, at least. She doesn’t understand her own actions anymore. Her body just seems to do what it will, and even ever-prepared Tessa can’t control her responses when she doesn’t know minute to minute what her responses will be. It’s a wonder she can still skate.

However, none of this stops her from going to Scott’s room at every opportunity. As far as she can tell, she’s not breaking any of their rules, but she’s not even sure the rules apply anymore.

The night after Tessa asks What If, Scott comes at her with one of his own. “What if we’re really good at being in love?” he murmurs into the back of her neck, and she feels it so deeply her chest hurts. But she doesn’t answer, and after a moment Scott sighs and kisses the back of her head. “Goodnight, Tess.”

She listens to his breath even out and thinks about what she even knew about love eight years ago. Or four years ago. Or yesterday. Thinks about Scott at 26, already thinking about his future in terms of finding someone he could spend it with. Thinks of herself at 24, just getting a handle on how far she could go, not ready to stop and factor in someone else.

Thinks about Scott at 28, still ready to skate with her at a moment’s notice.

That thought motivates her into rolling over and shaking Scott’s shoulder. “Scott. Wake up.”

“Hmmmm?” He opens his eyes a slit. “You ok?”

“Yeah, just-I have to ask you something.” He yawns, but opens his eyes the rest of the way. “Why’d you do it?”

His just-opened eyes blink at her. “Why did I do what?”

“All of it. Coming out of retirement, moving to Montreal, baiting the press. Why?”

He’s still confused, but he smiles like he’s about to tell her something she already knows. “First of all, I came out of retirement because there is nothing I’d rather be doing than skating with you.” She did know that, but it still makes her smile. “But pretending to have a secret relationship, I just agreed to that because you seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“It was a good idea,” she says, a little defensively. Then- “Did you know?”

This time he knows exactly what she’s asking. “No. I didn’t know how I was going to end up feeling about it. I still don’t know how I feel about it.” He reaches up to push her hair behind her ear, brushes his thumb across her bottom lip. “I think I’m starting to, though.”

She inhales deeply to steady herself, blurts it out before she can second-guess herself. “Let’s talk about it after the tour.”

Scott props himself up on an elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her heart is still going a million miles a minute. “I can’t make you any promises, but-”

Her sentence is cut off when Scott captures her top lip gently with his teeth, and then they’re kissing, and neither of them goes to sleep for another forty-five minutes.

 

**3\. how much to give and how much to take**

She’s quiet on their flight back to Montreal, and Scott knows she’s thinking about it.

“I honestly do like your, um...new place,” he says, reaching over to place his hand over top of hers.

She flinches just a little at the contact, mulls over her response. “The old place had a lot of logistical problems,” she murmurs slowly, flipping her hand over to interlace their fingers. Her eyes lift to meet his. “Do you think the new place is going to be a...better fit?”

His heart skips a beat. “You really haven't given me all the details,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “I really think it could be. You should let me see the plans.”

She smiles, that tiny secret smile that means things aren't ok yet, but she knows they're going to be. “I can do that. Over dinner tomorrow?”

Tessa gives his hand a little squeeze, and he releases the breath he hasn't realized he'd been holding. “I'm looking forward to it.”

 

**4\. right in front of me**

 

**I.**

They sit across from each other in the booth at the little bistro, thank the hostess and flip open the menus. Tessa already knows what she wants, she just needs a cocktail. Or three. “So do you want to go first or should I?”

“You didn’t, like, make a powerpoint presentation, did you? Because if so we need to postpone this another night.” He smirks, but his eyes are so soft she finds herself smiling back at him.

“No, jerk. I guess that means you’re going first, since you’re obviously feeling confident enough to crack jokes at my expense.” His smirk fades, just a little, but before he can say anything in response their server shows up.

They put in their orders and settle into silence. Tessa breaks it again. “I don’t know about doing this out in public,” she says, glancing around her. “I don’t care about getting recognized, just…”

“I know, but hear me out.” He gets interrupted when their drinks come. Tessa downs about half of hers in one gulp. “We’re both stubborn as fuck, right?” She has to admit that they are. “So I didn’t want to do this at either of our places. Neutral territory, nobody’s got the upper hand.”

“Okay, I’m with you. Should I start?”

 

**II.**

Scott shakes his head. “I was actually thinking we should say it at the same time.”

Tessa starts laughing, stops suddenly when she realizes he’s not. “You’re serious.”

“Yes! Look, we’ve both got something we want to say to each other and we should just say it at the same time. Rip the bandaid off.” He can tell that appeals to her, and he watches her chew her top lip in contemplation.

“Ok. Let’s do it.” Her smile is wicked. He’s in so far over his head.

“Ok. Yeah. You sure? Point of no return, here,” he says solemnly, and she rolls her eyes and swats his arm. “One...two...three...I’minlovewithyou...”

 

**III.**

“Let’sbuyahousetogether,” Tessa breathes, the words all pushed together in a rush, and then she processes Scott’s vehement declaration as an actual sentence and her hands clamp over her mouth in horror.

“What?” Scott has finally finished parsing her statement. “You want to...buy a house. With me.”

“That’s not what I meant to say!” Tessa pleads. “It was-I just...You’re in love with me.” She breaks off her protestations to repeat his words out loud, and she turns them over in her head again, and again.

“That’s right, I said I’m in love with you, and you said...you want to buy a house.” He raises an eyebrow. “With me?”

“Yes, with you,” she says, cringing internally at her own emotional incompetence. She balls her hands into fists, closes her eyes, pulls a deep breath. “Four years ago, I remember telling you that I couldn’t even see myself buying a house yet, let alone look for someone to live in it with me.” Scott looks unimpressed, so she continues. “And I thought...I kinda had a feeling you might say what you did. Or something like that. And I didn’t want to just say the same thing, you know, and I guess...that was the next best thing I could think of.” _So now you know I’m a complete moron and you can sleep well knowing you dodged a bullet,_ she thinks to herself.

“I don’t know, Tess, a house is a really big commitment,” he says, and he almost keeps his smile suppressed but it sneaks out when he says ‘commitment’ and she’s throwing her napkin at him, so furious that he would let her sit there and embarrass herself like that but so, so relieved that he knows. He knows!

 

**IV.**

Of course he understands the weight of what she’s just said to him. Because she’s Tessa, because her mind works so differently than his, because telling him that she wants to buy a house together is her way of telling him she’s in, if he’s in. She’s in for life.

“You want to buy a house? I’m in. I can start calling realtors tomorrow, and I’m talking about actual realtors this time.” Tessa is wheezing with giddy laughter and flushed and looks like she does when they finish a really spectacular skate.

She looks so beautiful like that, choked up and smiling and he can’t get over the fact that it’s just for him, this time, so Scott gets up and stuffs himself into the booth next to her, and kisses her, and doesn’t stop until their food arrives.

 

**5\. i’ve moved farther than i thought i could**

They’re lying in Tessa’s bed, drunk on champagne and each other, and Scott is curled around her so still that she thinks he’s asleep already, but then he stirs. “Tessa. I have to ask you a question.”

“Okay?” she giggles, turning her head to face him.

He props his chin on her shoulder. “How exactly did you go from not wanting to talk about it to wanting to buy a house with me?”

She thinks about it for a minute, choosing her words carefully. “That night you yelled through the door, about not being able to logic my way out of it.” He starts to apologize, but she stops him. “I was definitely trying to logic my way out of it. Every time before, it just didn’t make sense.”

“We didn’t even really talk about it.” He’s almost talking more to himself. “Oh my god. We didn’t even talk about our five year plans.”

“Yeah, I kind of threw that out the window.” She laughs at his shocked expression. “I mean...I didn’t throw it out entirely. But let’s figure it out as we go.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” he says, pulling her over so she’s cradled in his arms. “I always knew you were a very sensible woman.”

“You don’t even know what a sensible woman looks like,” she teases him, and then he’s tickling her, and then he’s kissing her.

“Tessa Virtue,” he says in a very serious tone, “Will you buy a house with me?”

She laughs, cries while she’s laughing, kisses Scott while she’s crying and laughing because it really is the first time everything finally makes sense.

They don’t fall asleep for another hour and a half.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I swear I tried to make this a one-shot, but instead you got this. Fic and chapter titles are from my personal VM playlist. You can yell at me on tumblr, @beautimous.


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